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<title>there's some indication that you might be falling for me by keplcrs</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603515">there's some indication that you might be falling for me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/keplcrs/pseuds/keplcrs'>keplcrs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>kuroken week 2020 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, KuroKen Week 2020, M/M, other nekoma members and fukurodani are briefly mentioned, technically? i dont think theres anything that goes against canon, this is just 3.5k of kuroo being whipped but not quite realizing it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:34:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,699</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603515</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/keplcrs/pseuds/keplcrs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenma feels— he feels something flutter in his chest at that, looking up at Kuroo. Affection, maybe, at the acknowledgement of their closeness and the way that Kuroo seems to be nearby whenever Kenma is seeking him out like he has some sort of sixth sense for it. Or maybe it’s affection just because it’s Kuroo.</p><p>He feels it a lot, actually. He’s sure that it shows on his face— he’s stopped trying to hide it, deeming the task too exhausting and hoping that maybe Kuroo will finally catch on.</p><p>(He hasn’t. Kenma waits.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>kuroken week 2020 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701487</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>there's some indication that you might be falling for me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>day seven of kuroken week! the prompt was 'realization' and this is probably the one i got the most excited about lmao this has been finished for like a week and a half. maybe i'll go back and do days 5 and 6 and just post them late because i did in fact START them but just. did not finish. but hey, 5/7 aint bad.</p><p>also. i feel like i've used lizard boy lyrics for titles like... a lot but something about them just Hits Different so. the title is from 'the woah song' from lizard boy. its very sweet if u haven't listened to it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Practices in the summer are never Kenma’s favorite. They never have been, for as long as he’s played. The air conditioning in the gym feels practically nonexistent, and his water bottle seems to empty three times as fast as it does in the winter, and it’s too warm for him to wear a sweater before and after practice. </p><p>He can’t say he minds this, though— <em> this </em> being the walk home after practice, evening breeze giving him an excuse to pull his track jacket, resolutely not listening when Kuroo nags him about heat exhaustion and begrudgingly listening after Kuroo offers him a cold drink that he’d snagged from the vending machine on their way out of the gym. </p><p>It’s the same route that they always walk, Kenma with his phone in hand, head ducked so he can see the screen. It’s the same as it is every day, with Kuroo talking— he’s saying something about his plans for the next day’s practice— and Kenma humming in acknowledgement every few minutes, content with being led through the familiar streets to their homes, where he knows they’re going to go their separate ways for all of twenty minutes, which is as long as it takes for Kuroo to shower and change and gather whatever coursework he plans to do that night before he lets himself into the Kozume’s house to barge into Kenma’s room. </p><p>Kuroo’s palm is warm against his back, gently steering him clear of the curb, and other people, and store displays— it’s almost too warm, teetering just on the edge of uncomfortable but never tipping over, because it’s Kuroo, and Kenma has never complained about the warmth he gets from Kuroo, be it from a hand on his back or Kenma leeching off of his body heat in the winter when his hoodie isn’t enough to fight off the cold or the warmth in his chest whenever Kuroo looks at him a certain way, usually when he thinks no one is looking or doesn't realize that Kenma can see him in the reflection of his phone screen. (It’s endearing, really, even if it’s a bit annoying how quickly Kuroo averts his gaze when he discovers that Kenma’s noticed, especially since Kenma catches himself staring at Kuroo almost as often as he catches Kuroo staring at him. He’s not oblivious, he knows full well what it means— what it means for himself, at least— but he can never bring himself to look away as quickly, even when Kuroo takes notice. Kuroo’s going to give himself whiplash one of these days, and Kenma won’t even be able to say “I told you so,” because he hasn’t told him anything, hasn’t acknowledged the looks out loud at all despite knowing what they mean.)</p><p>He can't see Kuroo staring this time, but he can feel his gaze, stronger and more intense than he's used to, like Kenma is a puzzle that he's trying to figure out, except that doesn't make sense because if Kenma is a puzzle, then Kuroo helped cut the shapes.</p><p>The other giveaway that Kuroo isn't watching where he's going is that they're nearing the final turn to their houses and he stumbles, feet catching on an uneven patch of sidewalk. Kenma clutches his phone more tightly in one hand and instinctively grabs the hem of his shirt, as if he could do anything to keep Kuroo— who is taller and heavier and stronger than him, and who still has a hand on his back— from falling. He yelps, and wobbles for a moment, but ultimately manages to keep his balance, and Kenma graciously waits until Kuroo is steady on his feet again before he snorts and restarts his level, eyes on the screen once more. </p><p>"Watch where you're going, Kuro," he teases, glancing up just in time to catch the fond look in Kuroo's eyes before he's looking away and rolling them, gently nudging Kenma forward with a hand on his back. </p><p>"What," he says, and his voice is tinged with affection and an exasperated edge that isn't quite real, "so you don't have to?" </p><p>Kenma hums his agreement and nods, feeling a small smile settle unbidden on his face. He ducks his head, hoping that the strands of his hair are long enough to hide his expression from Kuroo. He counts the steps as they turn the corner— twenty before they reach Kuroo's door, twenty-two to get to Kenma's.</p><p>He counts to eighteen. Kuroo's hand slides up his back, giving his shoulder a small squeeze before dropping. "I'll see you in a bit, okay?" He says. Kenma puts away his phone and nods. When he looks up, Kuroo’s looking at him with that expression again, and Kenma doesn’t quite know the meaning of it but it’s comforting nonetheless, despite unreadable expressions usually being a catalyst for him overthinking.</p><p>Kenma only realizes that he’s been staring back when Kuroo coughs and tears his eyes away, dropping his hand and rubbing the back of his neck. </p><p>“Yeah,” he says, when he’s taken three more steps, looking up to meet Kuroo’s eyes with a small smile. “See you.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The first time they successfully pull off a personal time difference attack in a game, Kenma is in the tail end of his first year of high school and Kuroo is wearing his brand new captain’s jersey for the second time ever— the first had been the day he’d got it, pulling it on in his kitchen while his grandmother fussed over him and Kenma stood a few feet away, holding his bag and his uniform blazer, trying in vain to muffle his laughter at Kuroo’s red cheeks and weak protests, and Kenma has photos of it on his phone taken at Kuroo’s grandmother’s request that he still needs to send her.</p><p>They’ve practiced the time lag attack before, of course. It’s been in their arsenal for years, unpolished and waiting, and Kenma knows that Kuroo has been itching to use it. It hadn’t been reliable enough to use in junior high, two years prior, and Kenma hadn’t wanted to put in the practice required to pull it off with anyone else, so he had waited until he could join Kuroo at Nekoma, and then had to wait some more for the third years to leave the club. Kuroo nags him about it once, but drops the subject when he sees the look on Kenma’s face, and he’s grateful for it because he would do a lot for Kuroo but he draws the line at this, and Kuroo takes care not to cross it. Kenma wasn’t about to draw more attention to himself than necessary, not with his upperclassmen already looking down at him for slacking during runs or being a smartass or whatever other reasons they could come up with, and he knows that Kuroo knows this. </p><p>They’re gone now, though, retired after a loss in the third round of Interhigh qualifiers, and in their place is Kuroo, who asked him to stay with the promise of something satisfying, who nudges his elbow against Kenma’s ribcage during timeouts and lulls in practice in a silent encouragement to say what he’s thinking and, if he falters, will start the sentence for him and let Kenma give his input when he’s ready. There’s also Kai, who pats him on the back and reminds him not to push himself too far trying to keep up, and Yaku, who plunks down on the bench with him with two water bottles whenever he has a break to discuss strategies and ask for Kenma’s observations, but really, at the center of it all is Kuroo, because he’s the reason Kenma is still there, even if the rest of the team is starting to feel like reason enough to keep playing. </p><p>Kuroo being captain also means that they have the time and the ability to keep polishing their delayed spike without any upperclassmen there to bother up— although practice is a loose term for it, in Kenma’s case. He simply makes sure his tosses to Kuroo are consistent, until it’s just like any of the routines that they’ve established over the years, and Kuroo messes with the timing of his jump until they can pull it off nine times out of ten, depending on who’s been roped into blocking for them. </p><p>When they first use it, they don’t discuss it beforehand. </p><p>It’s a practice match against Fukurodani— Kenma’s first high school match, if only a practice one. Both teams pile into the gym with new captains and new starting setters and new lineups, trying to get back on their feet before the qualifiers for Spring High. </p><p>It’s not a bad match, per se. Working with Kuroo has always been something that comes naturally to him, and he’s learning to get along with the rest of his teammates— he’s spent enough time watching them from the sidelines to get a general sense of how he’ll fit into the team, what kinds of tosses to send up and when, how to utilize the teammates he’s got— and during a timeout in the first set, Kuroo makes an offhand comment about how cohesive the new team feels, how he thinks they can pull off just about anything, and there’s a grin on his face as he looks pointedly at Kenma, even as Yaku voices his agreement and Yamamoto hollers something in response. </p><p>That's about as close as they get to discussing anything, and as the first set drags towards its end— at least, Kenma hopes it's going to end soon— he sends the ball behind him, and the angle isn't what they've practiced with because they haven't done this with a backset yet , but it feels good leaving his hands and he <em> knows </em> it's going to happen, even spins on his heel so he can watch Kuroo stall for a moment before his jump. It's nothing special, really. Kenma has seen him do it plenty of times before, during practice, and they have other, flashier moves that Kuroo's been nagging him about polishing, but it still feels satisfying to hear the ball smack against the ground, to see the surprise on Kuroo's face when he turns for a high five and finds Kenma already waiting, palm up in front of him. </p><p>There’s a moment of silence between them, where Kuroo just stares at his outstretched hand with something akin to awe on his face and Kenma fights the urge to hide behind his hair, looking up at him. </p><p>He clears his throat and breaks the trance. </p><p>Kuroo high fives him, hand lingering a little longer than necessary. “Forgot how good it felt, playing an actual match with you,” he says, and it almost sounds awestruck, as if this isn’t just a practice match against a team that they play at least once a month. Kenma does duck his head this time, letting his bangs cover his face and blaming the flush on his cheeks on a lack of stamina. </p><p>"Shut up,” he says, and then, “nice kill.” Kuroo beams at him. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“What’s that on your arm?”</p><p>Kuroo doesn’t look away from the match taking place on Kenma’s TV, a game tape that he’d brought over to watch before their practice match next Friday. He’s been fidgeting with something, though, and the movement stills when Kenma brings it up.</p><p>They’re both sitting on his bed, and Kenma is just surrounded enough to feel comfortable without feeling trapped. He’s got one of Kuroo’s warmer hoodies on— it’s newer than most of the stuff Kenma borrows, not as worn out, because this one isn’t borrowed so much as stolen, but Kuroo hadn’t said anything when he’d first arrived despite staring for long enough that Kenma knows he recognizes it. </p><p>His back is pressed to Kuroo’s chest and Kuroo’s arms are draped around him, because any other position had involved Kuroo sprawled over Kenma in some way or form and Kenma complaining that Kuroo was smothering him, or Kuroo whining about how squirmy Kenma was. The complaints hadn’t really mattered, because they hadn’t really meant them— even now, Kuroo is still kind of smothering him, and his hold is loose enough that Kenma can still wriggle away if he wants too— and besides, they always ended up like this, so he’d only been hastening the inevitable. </p><p>(He wonders if that says something about them, how quickly they fall back into this position, comfortable and familiar and kind of domestic. It only takes a few moments of thought before he realizes that it does, and that everything it says about them is true, even if Kenma hasn’t said anything about it and Kuroo doesn’t seem to have realized it yet. It’s amusing, really, and Kenma makes a note to text Shouyou about it later— or Akaashi, because he’s less likely to let it slip before Kuroo can figure it out himself, and Kenma still has enough patience to wait and see how long it takes.)</p><p>“Kenma.” A pause. He tries not to let on that he’d been spacing out— not that he can hide that from Kuroo, who he knows is watching him instead of the match, now— and fixes his eyes on the screen. Kuroo huffs out a laugh, a quiet sound right next to his ear. “Keeenma. Are you listening?” </p><p>He turns his head to look at Kuroo, a little bit embarrassed at being caught. Kuroo, thankfully, says nothing of it and instead shows Kenma the stack of hair elastics on his left wrist. Kenma frowns. “Those are—”</p><p>“Yours,” Kuroo finishes for him, grinning. He brings his hands up and pulls some of Kenma’s hair back, tongue poking out as he gathers the strands into a messy ponytail at the nape of Kenma’s neck, using one of the elastics on his arm to tie it back. “I’ve been finding them everywhere. I don’t even know how you lose them so often.” </p><p>The ends of his hair brush against his neck and it itches, so Kenma scrunches up his nose, shaking his head. “Too low, Kuro,” he says, and he can imagine Kuroo rolling his eyes even as he dutifully pulls the hair elastic out to redo the ponytail. “I don’t lose them, you just pick them up before I do and never give them back,” he adds, because it’s true— he doesn’t like keeping them on his arms, so he leaves them in his backpack, or around his water bottle, or twists them between his fingers when he doesn’t have his phone, and if Kuroo usually ends up collecting the ones he forgets about, he doesn’t need to know. </p><p>There’s a noise of protest from Kuroo, who seems to have given up on the ponytail in favor of just running his fingers through Kenma’s hair. He doesn’t mind— it’s soothing, and he can see the match on-screen just fine without his hair tied up. “I give them back,” he insists. Kenma looks pointedly at Kuroo’s wrist, silent. “Okay, fine, maybe I don’t give them <em> all </em> back, but I know you’re always forgetting them at home or losing them after practice, so at least now you know you’ll always have one close by.”</p><p>Kenma feels— he feels <em> something </em> flutter in his chest at that, looking up at Kuroo. Affection, maybe, at the acknowledgement of their closeness and the way that Kuroo seems to be nearby whenever Kenma is seeking him out like he has some sort of sixth sense for it. Or maybe it’s affection just because it’s Kuroo.</p><p>In truth, Kenma is no stranger to the feeling in his chest. He’s well-acquainted with it, feels it all over again every time Kuroo tells a dumb joke or yanks his hoodie down over Kenma’s head because he refuses to get up but “looks cold, and don’t look at me like that because I can see you shivering, Kenma, so stop being so stubborn and wear the damn sweater.”</p><p>He feels it a lot, actually. He’s sure that it shows on his face— he’s stopped trying to hide it, deeming the task too exhausting and hoping that maybe Kuroo will finally catch on.</p><p>(He hasn’t. Kenma waits.)</p><p>“Rewind it,” he eventually says, pointing to the remote sitting next to Kuroo. “I want to watch that serve again.” He’d missed it, but he’s been keeping an eye on that server for the entire game and he’s got an idea in his head. </p><p>He blinks at the screen, willing his eyes to focus on the screen while Kuroo does as requested and rewinds the tape for Kenma. He isn’t watching the match anymore, though. Kenma can feel him fidgeting— he twists the elastics around his wrist, or ties the strings on Kenma’s ‘borrowed’ hoodie into bows, or taps the back of the remote where the battery cover is loose. </p><p>Kenma watches the serve. He waits for a moment, filing away his ideas to bring up at practice the next morning. </p><p>Kuroo keeps fidgeting. He’s staring, too, and if Kenma angles his head just right, he can see him out of the corner of his eye. His expression keeps shifting, too quickly for Kenma to be able to read without facing him.</p><p>An awareness of his own feelings and a semi-confident awareness of Kuroo’s feelings does not make it any easier to sit there with Kuroo’s undivided attention on him, and it definitely makes it harder to pretend he’s still watching the game. Kenma tries to wait it out— Kuroo will say something if there’s anything that needs to be said, he’s sure— but he eventually crumbles, turning to look at Kuroo.</p><p>Immediately, the game pauses. </p><p>Kuroo is still looking at him, and Kenma is torn between shrinking away from his stare and meeting it head-on. It occurs to him for the first time that maybe he isn’t the only one who’s been waiting.</p><p>He swallows, and keeps his head up. “Kuro?” He says, and he can feel the hesitation seeping into his voice. He might have been waiting for this, but he’s very quickly finding out that he’s not quite ready for it— he’s spent so long in this equilibrium of knowing and not-quite-knowing that it’s become a sort of comfort. He and Kuroo have danced around confessions and feelings for long enough that Kenma is tense now, certain that any change will leave him stumbling. </p><p>“You already know,” Kuroo says, quietly, and Kenma is momentarily stunned. He can’t pinpoint the emotion in Kuroo’s voice. “Don’t you?”</p><p>He can’t hold Kuroo’s gaze anymore, so he drops his eyes and lets them rest on the remote, still in Kuroo’s hand, inches away from the collection of hair elastics. Kenma’s hands itch for one of them— one to twist and stretch in his fingers, not one for his hair, because he needs the curtain right now. He carefully runs his index finger over them, brushing the skin of Kuroo’s wrist in between elastics.</p><p>Eventually, he replies, soft and carefully neutral as if his extended silence hadn’t been enough to answer the question. “Know what?”</p><p>Kuroo looks at him for a moment, leans forward so he can see Kenma’s face and study his expression, and then he laughs. It’s more of a cackle, really, edged with nerves but still bright and relieved and not at all attractive, and it’s Kenma’s favorite sound. </p><p>The tension disappears, and even though Kenma is still nervous, it helps to know that it’s mutual.</p><p>“I think,” Kuroo says, pausing as if he knows that Kenma is going to be holding his breath waiting for him to finish, “that I might be in love with you.”</p><p>Kenma looks at him, and Kuroo stares back, seemingly unperturbed by Kenma’s lack of response. There’s a beat of silence, and then another. He waits for the inevitable stumbling feeling, anticipating the twist of something unpleasant in his stomach, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he’s got the not-terrible sensation of his heart beating too fast in his chest, and he’s hyper aware of Kuroo’s arms around him, hands still underneath Kenma’s and thumbs moving to rub circles onto the back of his hands, grounding him. </p><p>“Ah,” he finally says, because he can see Kuroo’s confidence starting to crack around the edges. “That.” In hindsight, it probably isn’t the best reaction, because his best friend is starting to look more and more unsure of himself and Kenma has been waiting for this for too long to let it slip from his grasp. “Yeah,” he continues, pausing briefly to lace his fingers with Kuroo’s, “I had my suspicions. It certainly took you long enough to figure it out,” he teases.</p><p>Kuroo, very smoothly, sputters at him, spitting out half-formed protests. It’s so undeniably <em> Kuroo </em> that Kenma can’t help but laugh, at his best friend and at the ridiculousness of his worries.</p><p>Of course things would change— for better or for worse, although it certainly feels like it’s going to change for the better. Things are going to be different after this, the steps to the dance changing as they adjust, but if he stumbles, he’s got Kuroo there to catch him, keep him grounded. </p><p>He likes to think it works in the other direction as well.</p><p>“Kuro,” he says, and he doesn’t wait for Kuroo to go quiet before he continues with, “I’m in love with you too.”</p><p>Kuroo smiles at him— soft and affectionate and kind of lovestruck,  and the warmth returns full-force. </p><p>Of course, he ruins it a split-second later, echoing Kenma’s “Yeah, I had my suspicions,” in a teasing tone, and it feels so <em> normal </em> despite the fact that their confessions should have thrown everything at least slightly off-balance. Kuroo’s still got that sappy grin on his face, and Kenma is still sort of reeling from just how much affection he feels, and that’s just what their normal is, apparently.</p><p>Kenma wonders how long it’s been like this— if, during the time he had spent waiting for Kuroo, he’d missed a few things himself. </p><p>(In the end, it doesn’t really matter how they got there, and Kenma’s been waiting for it for too long to care how and when it happened.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>aaand that's it! i've never actually done a fanweek before so this was a lot of fun even if i missed a couple days. as per usual you can find me at <a href="https://ejpraijin.tumblr.com">ejpraijin</a> on tumblr !</p></blockquote></div></div>
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